[contestant entry] Work In Progress

Day 3,235, 08:42 • Published in USA USA • by Customs of Dahomey

Their amusement of my ill disguised mortal fear is hardily concealed. Ever the tree dweller, afraid of what lays in wait ready to bounce, they snicker, mocking my lofty position as adjutant liaison to the parmafarm they are conscripted to.

What a sham, first a break through in therapy, innocent enough in the beginning. Tuned into being, actual voices the inmates had been hearing, something about electric pulses cells produce. The vast designs to collect as much as possible before it was lost, was undertaken before any of it was understood. With tuned in minds listening, they ignored what their eyes should have been seeing.

Innocent enough in the beginning, the mandatory efficiency ratings of the Frequent Council, a deadly pun that one, started the halfdecadular shifting of the populace as above efficient models were designed underground. The conviction-less prisoners, they became.

Medical research advanced greatly, not by tuning into the past, but by well academic-ed epidemics. By the time those listening to past minds realized now many were joining the past, it was too late.

Tracking square scat, let them enjoy my terror, as there earamps tune in the ululations of others that had been in my plight.

Ever life's hurdle these Frequent daily polls, the tallies of which decide ones fate, the past's future or future's past, was to be decided, I sided wrong perhaps that is why I lead here.

The naturalists ran wild, those who resisted resettlement were quickly dispatched to the fading frequencies. Another Frequent decision imported the Latin Legion to toil by day and massacre by twilight. Those crimes now frequent the strongest, not hard to follow who is to be next, want keeps them from tuning into my wave, to understand what freaks the Frequents are hatching on this parmafarm...